Kites Poems - Poems about Kites

Jan Juc Primary School Annual Fundraiser A Kite Festival Perfect day Windy, warm Families crowd onto the lawn Above Fisherman's Beach Prams, dogs, wheelchairs Giggling youngsters Parents saying, "Look up!" Cameras capture glee Big blue whale Wafting Above several sharks out of water A scuba diver twirling below Knots and nylon twine Fluttering ribbons and tails Happy kids everywhere Mums, Dads holding tight A plethora of little diamonds Soaring Brilliant colours glint in grey skies A giant...

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A hillside of walkers gathering slow blend with the gold medal fields all aglow. Kites finding freedom, flutter and flow as looping Red Kites begin to swoop low. Families with picnics bask in the sun whilst ice-cream smeared children playfully run. Dogs chasing frisbees bark at the fun as strolling events are just about done. Rooks search for scraps on the Downs chalky...

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Have you ever thought of flying a kite? A crazy dancing hueful delight. You don't just need a bridle and a spool, But an impeccable foresight as a rule. Pick up a kite that is sturdy and correct size, Then check the trees and power lines as an exercise. East or West, what is the wind direction? The wind speed too calls...

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Ideas are green kites that lift me high birth most beautiful blue dreams To my dandelion delight I fulfill in teal time For I can do amber anything Oh! You say I’ve run away Imagination is a red train But to stay in hazel head all day Isn’t always a bad thing Purple prophecy, proposal cerebral kind For if you dare you will not...

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Upon the sand that adorns the shores, Sit the children who watch their kites soar, The sounds of glee loud as the sea, The shrills of pelicans as they flee Amidst the blazing sun, Sitting through the summer thunderstorms has begun, The signs of the sky, before the clouds cry. The sight of the rain is cherished by the eye. My back...

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We loved when dad would call For some paper, string and sticks. He'd ask for flour in a cup And show us other "tricks." He'd take a simple grocery sack And lay it on the floor, Then mark a border 'round it, Notch the sticks and more. He'd mix the flour and water To make a basic glue, They lay the sticks across And tie them...

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The Heraclee sky was a lurid, neon blue but the morning was surprisingly cool (at 54°). The antemeridian sun managed to cast sharp, surreal, black-hole shadows, giving the world a baroque art look, as if we were strolling through a Rembrandt painting, where everything is defined by shadows. The lavish breeze, coming up off the Mediterranean...

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Moon so high, awake and beaming in white Soft cloud smiles, watching the moonlight dancing Behind the furs, hiding as crystal kite Bounds in miles, prancing with stars so pleasing. Winds so cold, peeking on wonders of light Stars on hold, freezing with yonders of oak Air so bold, giggling at blunders of might Quasars unfold, circling defying-cloak. Tarrying night lights over winds...

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Snowy week passes away ...

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Snowy week passes away ...

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Snowy week passes away ...

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S nowy week passes away. ...

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Snowy week passes away ...

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Snowy week passes away ...

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Snowy week passes away ...

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